


Kiss, Kiss, Fall in... Love?

by darthkouhai



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Ouran High School Host Club, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 15:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10282259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthkouhai/pseuds/darthkouhai
Summary: The crash was loud, the sound of shattering glass shocking the room to silence. Youngjae stared, wide eyed and horrified, at the shards of expensive-looking glass littering the floor.  “That vase… was worth 80 million won,” Yugyeom mutters, jaw dropped in disbelief.What… what have I done?Youngjae flushes in embarrassment as 6 pairs of eyes land on him. “I… I’ll pay it back?” Which is a big, fat, obvious lie because a) Youngjae does not have the money, and b) he can’t even afford a uniform, much less an  80 million won vase. From across the room, Jinyoung sighs irritably, rubbing his forehead. “We were going to auction that vase off… and I doubt he actually has the money to pay us back. What will we do now Jaebum?""Well…” Youngjae jumps as Jaebum points to him, his glare just as sharp as his voice, “Until your debt is paid off, you will be the GOT’s dog!"Youngjae yelps, staring helplessly at the leader as both Yugyeom and BamBam place their hands on each of his shoulder, “D-Dog?!”Record scratch.You’re probably wondering how Youngjae got himself into this mess… Well, let’s take it back half an hour, shall we?(Ouran AU, wherein Youngjae is Haruhi!)





	

**Author's Note:**

> this.... this fic is my new baby... I love ouran so much and I've always wanted to write a fic like this (cough cough I actually did write a fic like this like 3 years ago,,, but with my oc). should I be publishing another fic even though I have like 4 incomplete ones? probably not. do I care? not really. am I projecting my own feelings into my work again? most definitely.
> 
> anyway,,, as the tags read, this story has a trans male (which, if you haven't already guessed, is Youngjae), and while it is loosely based on Ouran, I am going to take liberty and make this into my own concoction of gay, angst, fluff, and (shitty) humor...  
> (asdfghjkl also yall try an guess which the hosts I based each g7 member on hahah)  
> please enjoy!

Coming to a new school is hard enough, being a  _ scholarship student _ is harder - but being a poor, scholarship student in a prestigious, rich-kid high school is the hardest. Seriously, Youngjae doesn’t know  _ why _ he thought he’d get through the year smoothly. Things never work out like that, especially for him. 

JYP is a large school, impossibly (and unnecessarily) large, and it was one of Seoul’s white-collar private schools for those of extreme wealth. It was for rich kids whose parents wanted them to get a good education or to represent their families in various sports and academics and fine arts. 

 

_ “First about pedigree, second about money _ .”  

 

A school where everybody knew everybody, to an extent - your place on the social food chain is directly linked to who your family is, and how much wealth is under your name. If you don’t have an amazing socioeconomic standing, you’re doomed.

Which is exactly  _ why  _ scholarship students are so rare. First of all, the qualifications for said scholarships are harsh (must have amazing grades, no matter the basis of your scholarship, must pass standardized tests and auditions, etc…), and second of all… the stigma surrounding the “elite vs the common” is very much present here. 

 

Which brings us back to this; why the hell did Youngjae think this was going to be easy? He had hope that nobody would remember his name, that he’d only be the nameless, faceless scholarship student - but nope,  _ apparently _ , your name (and face) is  _ more likely _ to be known if you’re one.

… Okay, so his name isn’t  _ exactly _ known, technically. They call him “commoner” more often than not, but Youngjae’ll take that over some of the other things they’ve called him. He’s literally only been at school for 2 weeks and things are already hard, but he’s come to the (stunningly obvious) conclusion that the more he sticks to himself, the more they’ll leave him alone. More or less. 

_ Ugh. _

 

So, here he is, friendless and outcasted, and at the moment, lost. 

Yes, you heard him.  _ Lost. _ Because this school is  _ so damn large _ (which is seriously unnecessary! Who needs  _ three  _ gyms and  _ two _ separate cafeterias??). 

 

After wandering around endless unfamiliar hallways, Youngjae’s just about had enough. “This is ridiculous,” he groans, because he’d just passed  _ another  _ crowded library (what was that… the third? Fourth?). All he wants to do is find somewhere to write his compositions in  _ peace _ , is that too much to ask? For him, whose luck is apparently complete shit:  _ yes, yes it is.  _ He can’t even use the the two music rooms he’d stumbled across because guess what,  _ they were full too!  _

“Honestly,” Youngjae scoffs after rounding down another winding corridor, “how can  _ four _ libraries be that full… ridiculous. School’s over anyway… why are they here?”

 

He’s just about at his wits end when he stumbles upon it;  _ Music Room 3.  _ Youngjae pauses, glaring up at the sign. The hallway itself is quiet (a good sign), but Youngjae’s suspicious. Knowing this school (and it’s seemingly endless supply of stupid rich kids), he can’t possibly have found something so convenient. Fate  _ has  _ to be messing with him...  _ right _ ? 

But he also doesn’t want to walk away and possibly lose the only chance he’ll get to compose in peace…

 

After a moment of thought, Youngjae sighs,  _ fuck it _ , stalking up to the door. Youngjae presses his ear up against the wood delicately to listen, pleased to hear the sweet sound of  _ silence _ . “Yes,” he squeaks, breathing a huff of relief. 

Youngjae fidgets with the notebook in his hands, playing with the frayed edges of paper - call him paranoid, but he’s still a little suspicious. Yeah, it may be quiet, but what if someone’s in there? After today, Youngjae is  _ not _ in the mood to deal with anyone.  _ But…  _ He glares at the door handle, and eventually groans defeatedly.  _ Here goes nothing _ .  Squeezing his eyes shut, Youngjae slowly pushes the door open. 

He doesn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t  _ this _ . Thinking the coast was clear, Youngjae stepped through the threshold, but the moment the door closes behind him, he’s assaulted by a flurry of rose petals and the smell of strong, flowery cologne.  _ What the hell? _

 

“Welcome!”

 

Youngjae almost screams, flinching back against the door in surprise. Sitting in the middle of the room were six  _ insanely _ beautiful boys. One of them is seated on a  _ throne _ (there’s no other way to describe it… Youngjae presumes he’s the leader or something?) looking relaxed and freaking  _ perfect _ at the same time, and sitting on the arm of the chair is a princely looking boy he vaguely recognizes as Park Jinyoung. Next were two others, slightly smaller but  _ just  _ as attractive; a thin brunet and a muscular blond, and on the other side of the chair was a thin boy with light pink hair and plump lips, and a tall, baby-faced redhead.

 

“What--” He’s literally speechless, unable to take his eyes off of the group but also feeling his own face heat up in embarrassment (or is it something else?) as they stare at  _ him _ .   _ Who the hell is this beautiful group? _

 

“Oh, it’s a  _ guy _ ,” the pinked haired boy says blandly, looking at Youngjae and sticking his tongue out. A little part in the back of his mind is relieved with the pronoun, but he still self consciously shifts his notebook closer to his chest. 

“Watch your mouth,” Park Jinyoung chides, swiftly reaching over to slap him on the arm scoldingly. “He’s still a precious guest, treat him like one, even if he  _ is  _ a guy.”

Youngjae’s feels more and more uncomfortable by the minute, just standing here like this, but he finds his feet frozen to the ground. “I-”

“Welcome to JYP’s exclusive  _ Host Club _ , GOT,” the one sitting down smiles and it’s enough to make Youngjae breathless, “Scholarship student,  _ Choi Youngjae. _ ”

 

_ But _ , all breathless attraction is flushed down the toilet once his name in mentioned.  _ Oh _ . For some reason, Youngjae’s disappointed. He almost forgot about the situation (probably too distracted by the overwhelming amount of beauty in front of him).  _ At least they used my actual name this time,  _ he thinks bitterly. 

“How… how did you know that?” Youngjae doesn’t mean for the question to come out, because he already knows the answer, but it does and he flushes even more when the “prince” directs his smile towards Youngjae.

“It’s not usual for commoners to get accepted into the school, much less for musical scholarships,” he explains, like it was painfully obvious (it was), “it’s only natural to learn the names of exceptional students like yourself.”

 

“So to speak,” a muscular arm wraps around Youngjae’s slim shoulders and he jumps, turning his wide eyes towards the blond standing  _ way _ too close  “You’re kind of like a hero!”

“W-what are you-” 

“Think about it,” he says, his voice low and breath hitting Youngjae’s ear, “all alone, left to fend for yourself in a school full of predators, while  _ you  _ are the prey. Forced to deal with the trials and tribulations in order to prove your worth,” the nameless blond fakes a sniffle, dramatically, “It’s tear jerking, really.”

Against Youngjae’s wishes, the blond (somehow) gets  _ closer _ , “H-hey!”

“No matter,” to Youngjae’s relief, he pulls away a little bit  (at least, far enough that he isn't breathing in Youngjae’s face anymore), “I didn’t think the new student would be so open! What’s your type, huh? Do you like mischievous types like Yugyeom and BamBam? The playful type, the diva type?” 

 

Youngjae was overwhelmed by the shift in dynamics as the blond spins him around the room, pointing over to the two (now) lounging on one of the couches. The redhead and the pink-haired boy watch them inconspicuously over the back of the couch, ducking away when Youngjae catches their gazes. 

“Or do you like the silent ones like Mark-hyung,” the blond snickers, nodding towards the thin brunet from before, now sitting on the chair in the middle of the room scrolling through his phone. 

 

“Or maybe,” Youngjae yelps as he’s tugged against the blond’s chest, forced to look into large, brown eyes, “you like the  _ wild and sexy  _ type?”

_ Red alert, red alert!  _ Youngjae recoils quickly, trying to find a quick escape. He pushes his notebook defensively against the other boy’s chest, “ _ Hey,  _ buddy _ \-  _ I-I’m not--”

“Jackson, calm down!” 

Jackson lets out an indignant squawk, “ _ Hey! _ I’m just having a little fun-” At that moment, he tightened his arm around Youngjae and the boy panics, pushing himself away from Jackson forcefully. No one has time to react as Youngjae stumbles backwards towards the door and away from Jackson but… he stumbles right into the table placed conveniently near the door, knocking the pristine-looking vase right off it.

 

The crash is loud, the sound of shattering glass shocking the room to silence. Youngjae stared, wide eyed and horrified, at the shards of expensive-looking glass littering the floor.  __ “That vase… was worth 80 million won,” Yugyeom mutters, jaw dropped in disbelief. 

_ What… what have I done?  _ Youngjae flushes in embarrassment as 6 pairs of eyes land on him. “I… I’ll pay it back?” Which is a big, fat, obvious  _ lie  _ because a) Youngjae does not have the money, and b) he can’t even afford a uniform, much less  _ an  80 million won vase _ . 

 

From across the room, Jinyoung sighs irritably, rubbing his forehead. “We were going to auction that vase off… and I doubt he actually has the money to pay us back. What will we do now Jaebum?”

“Well…” Youngjae jumps as Jaebum points to him, his glare just as sharp as his voice, “Until your debt is paid off, you will be the GOT’s dog!”

Youngjae yelps, staring helplessly at the leader as both Yugyeom and BamBam place their hands on each of his shoulder, “D-Dog?!” 


End file.
